


Rizzoli Isles & Kate (RI&K): Los Angeles

by briwd



Series: Rizzoli, Isles and Todd [2]
Category: NCIS, NCIS: Los Angeles, Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen, General, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briwd/pseuds/briwd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third main story in the Rizzoli, Isles & Todd series, RI&K: Los Angeles pits Jane Rizzoli, Maura Isles, Kate Todd, and NCIS's Los Angeles special ops team against a drug lord intent on gaining revenge for Ari Haswari's death in every way imaginable - from orchestrating kidnappings to terrorist attacks. No one - them, Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo's team, Boston homicide - is safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**RI &K: Los Angeles**

**Chapter 1**

**Boston**

Jane Rizzoli-Isles woke up, in bed, faintly smelling eggs and bacon, and threw off the covers.

She looked at the alarm clock - 7:07 - and panicked. Jane rushed towards her closet, looking for a blouse, slacks and a jacket, then looked for her phone to call her work partner in the Boston Police Department's homicide division, Barry Frost. Jane found a blouse and jacket and threw them on the bed while she rushed to the cabinet to find a pair of slacks. She found a pair, and threw them on the bed while she looked for her a pair of shoes.

Then she heard a bark from the bed.

Jo Friday, her terrier, planted herself on one of the pants legs.

"Jo!" Jane said, rushing over to lift the dog off of the slacks. "Jo, I told you not to do that!" Jane looked over the spot where Jo Friday had sat, saw no wet spot, and decided that would do.

Jane rushed back to the cupboard, looking for her tube of lipstick, and threw her hands up in exasperation when she couldn't find it, as she heard familiar chuckling from the doorway.

"Honey," smiled her wife, Maura Rizzoli-Isles. "We're on vacation, silly."

"We are?" Jane said, remembering this was the first day of her and Maura's two-week-long working vacation. "Yes, Maura. I do remember. We are on vacation. How  _could_  I forget?"

Jane slapped herself in the back of her head.

"That only works on men, and when administered by former Marines turned special agents," Maura stated. "In all other cases, it's ineffective and over time could lead to serious harm."

Jane took a breath, and walked over to pick up Jo Friday. Then, she went over to Maura, gave her a kiss, and began to examine her neck.

"Well that was nice, Detective," Maura said. "Are you looking for something?"

"Hives," Jane deadpanned. "You just told a lie."

"I did not," Maura replied. "Repeated slaps to the base of the skull, over time, could potentially lead to serious injury, according to a study done by the University of the United States in 1992 and a follow-up study done at BCU in 2006-"

"Really?" Jane asked, skeptically.

"Yes," Maura continued. "The findings were repeated slaps to the head could potentially affect brain function, including memory loss and headaches."

"How many 'slaps'?"

"Nonstop, over a period of eight hours."

"Who lets someone slap them in the head for eight hours?"

"The subjects were fraternity members and other males."

"Why am I not surprised. Were they drunk?"

"I don't believe so."

"Then I don't think DiNozzo has anything to worry about...and neither do I," Jane said, suddenly noticing a faint scent coming from the kitchen. "Ma cooking breakfast?"

"Bacon and eggs, and waffles," Maura said. "I thought we would eat a good breakfast before getting ready to leave for the airport. We have a long day ahead of us."

"Yes, and I hope I don't spend a week and a half sitting through speech after speech at a medical seminar indoors in Santa Monica."

"You won't, and we will have plenty of time to enjoy the beach, the shopping and the sights of California."

**Washington**

**Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters**

Special Agent Tim McGee sat at his desk in the bullpen, completely immersed in his cold case, and completely unaware of the six people standing in front of his desk.

So, one of them got his attention by throwing a wadded-up paper cup at him

"What!" McGee yelped, as it hit the side of his head. "Jimmy!"

"Glad you got my name right for once," said Jimmy Palmer, the assistant to chief medical examiner Dr. Donald 'Ducky' Mallard, who stood nearby.

"What was that for? And why are all of you standing there?" McGee said, stifling a yawn. "We catch a case?"

He looked at the people standing in front of his desk – Special Agent Caitlin "Kate" Todd; probationary agent Michelle Lee; Mossad Officer Ziva David; Palmer; forensics specialist Abby Sciuto; and Dr. Mallard – and stood up, looking over Kate and Ziva's shoulders towards Special Agent in Charge Tony DiNozzo's desk.

"Where's Tony?" McGee asked. "Everything alright-"

Lee handed a manila folder to Kate, who pulled an 8x11 picture from it and placed it on McGee's keyboard.

"What...where'd you get this?" McGee said, looking at his portrait.

"That is your publicity photo, is it not?" Ziva said. "A little doggie tells us you are working on a sequel to your novel."

"A little birdie, Ziva," Kate corrected, before turning her attention to McGee. "Tony and I found some crazy guy going through your trash the other night. We found discarded typewriter ribbons."

"With a cameo from PIMMY JALMER-" Jimmy interjected, somewhat angry, stopping when Ducky put a hand on his arm.

"Mr. Palmer, I'm sure your Polynesian alter ego has nothing to be concerned about," Ducky said, reassuringly. "Neither will Agent Tommy; Officer Lisa; Miss Amy Sutton" - nodding to Abby - "and Agent Mae Codd-"

"Who's  _still_  a  _FISH_ -" Kate interjected.

"Nor former Agent L.J. Tibbs, bringing democracy back to the liberated citizens of Mexico," Ducky continued. "I am happy that you've added a medical examiner to Agent Tommy's team, even though I find his name most curious: David "Doggy" Bulldog. And he's English, not Scottish."

McGee stared at the group, speechless. If he learned anything from the brouhaha over his novel  _Deep Six_ , it was best to let the team have its say before he said anything in his own defense.

"You were going to have Agent McGregor marry Amy," Abby said. "But they're all kinds of wrong for each other."

Kate and Ziva looked at Abby. "You made yourself the hero, McGee," Kate added.

"' _Deep Six 2: The Adventures of Agent McGregor'_ ," Ziva stated. "The first words on the very first ribbon Tony and Kate recovered from the scene."

McGee decided they might be at his desk into the night if he didn't say something. "You found my ribbons?" he said, standing up and holding up his hands to silence everyone. "You two were rooting in my trash? And who was the other guy?"

"Tony tried to tell you, but you were gone-" Kate.

"Sarah asked me to come by her apartment to help her with a school project," McGee said. "You two came by my apartment last night?"

"And found a guy going through your trash," Kate said. "Tony interrogated him. Neither of us got any sleep. And, we called your sister's apartment looking for you and got no answer."

"I, ah, we were at her friend's apartment," McGee said, trying to cover for what he really did last night - something only he and Director Shepard were supposed to be privy to.

"What's that on your neck, McGee?" Ziva said, coyly, as the others noticed the lipstick stain under his collar. "Was Sarah's friend pleased to see you?"

McGee then remembered the stain, and the reason for it, and who gave it to him last night.

_No way am I telling them anything about Jeanne._

"Er, yes," McGee said. "She was very happy after I came up with the formula that helped solve her project. She was too happy...happy."

Everyone smiled. "Um hm," said Palmer. "What's her name?"

"Shirley," McGee stammered. "We-"

"We have a case," yelled Tony from the top of the stairs behind McGee and Kate's desks. "Dead Navy Lieutenant, Rock Creek Park. Grab your gear!"

The team scattered, except for Abby. "You didn't send that thing to your publisher, did you, McGee? I think things are going way too fast for McGregor and Amy."

"Yes," McGee said. "The publisher has it."

Tony asked Abby to go back to forensics to check on the coat from the perp in the team's most active case, then had Ziva and Kate stand by the elevator while Ducky and Palmer left.

"I'm calling a two-man campfire, mano a mano, sixty seconds," Tony said to McGee. "What's her name?"

"Whose name?"

"The chick who gave you the hickey...here. Wipe that off before we go to the scene."

McGee wiped off the lipstick with the tissue paper Tony gave him.

"Shirley. Her name is Shirley, Tony. Happy for me?"

"Her name's not Shirley," Tony said. "I spoke with the director. She told me about your undercover op."

McGee stood, silently shocked for several moments.

"Tony...I did it only-"

"-because you had to," Tony said. "You were coming to work later, coming to work more tired, a little more lethargic than usual…and a spring in your step, a smile on your face. I could see it from a mile away, so did Kate and Ziva. The director told me what she was having you do...you were under orders, Probie. You did what you had to do."

"I'm still  _on_  the op, Tony."

"For now," Tony replied. "You want  _be_  on it, Tim?"

"It's not what  _I_  want-"

"Yeah it is. We'll talk about this when we get back. If you want out, say the word."

Tony and Tim left the bullpen and joined Ziva and Kate on the elevator.

At Rock Creek Park, they quickly found their latest victim: a female Marine…identified as a  _he_  by his dog tags.

"Sergeant Clark Howard, Marine Corps," mused Ducky. "As you can see, there's a gunshot wound on her, ah, his chest…I must admit, it is difficult to see the Sergeant as a man."

"The Sergeant's done a really good job at passing," added Kate. "This already looks to be one of the more interesting cases we've had."

"She, not he," Tony said. "Let's get our terminology correct…where's Probie?"

"I'm here, Agent DiNozzo," Michelle said as she began taking photos.

"I didn't mean you. McGee," Tony said. "Where's he at?"

He, Kate, Ziva and Michelle all heard commotion near the truck, and saw McGee pinned against the passenger's door by three middle-aged women, all taking pictures with their phones and asking for autographs.

Kate was the first amongst the NCIS team to laugh out loud.

"McGee has groupies!" she said. "Lee. Take a picture."

"A dozen, Lee," Tony added. "Then go with Ziva to break up the party…we  _are_  working a crime scene after all."

**Los Angeles**

Julie Todd and Mike Renko are partners working for NCIS's undercover team, based in Los Angeles, part of the agency's Office of Special Projects.

At the moment, they sat in the ugliest, 15-year-old beater you'll ever see.

Julie was thankful it ran at all - Renko owed Sam Hanna a steak dinner for fixing it up - and that no one in the predominantly Hispanic neighborhood in east Los Angeles had noticed either of their Anglo faces.

Julie is the twin sister of Kate Todd, and except for her honey blonde hair, is the spitting image of Kate.

In terms of personality, the twins couldn't be any more different.

"Your sister ever do undercover work?" said Renko, in the driver's seat, his Dodgers cap pulled down past his eyebrows.

"A few times," said Julie, hair pulled back in a pony tail, and wearing a UCLA cap. She was looking through binoculars at a bar across the street, a known gathering place for three local men connected to the Reynosa cartel.

They were suspects in the theft of weapons from Camp Pendleton, and were sighted in the company of two men known to provide weapons to drug lords in Venezuela, Colombia and Costa Rica.

One of the three locals was thought to have also been involved with the Fighters of God during its terrorist operations in Los Angeles nearly two years before.

All of that led NCIS Assistant Director Leon Vance to authorize the OSP to get more intel on these five men.

Julie and Renko were to begin the operation by tailing the three locals. Team leader G Callen and his partner Sam Hanna were following a lead a mile away, while Kensi Blye and her partner, LAPD liaison Marty Deeks, planned to join up Julie and Renko in an hour.

Julie, at one point was estranged from her sister, and now talks to her regularly, even if they still don't see eye to eye.

"Kate's gone on one undercover op under Gibbs, and two under Tony," Julie said to Renko. "Gibbs said she needed work. Kate says Tony wanted her out in the field. She likes working for Tony."

"They say Gibbs can be a pain in the ass. I didn't think he was that bad the one time I met him. Whatever happened to that guy?"

"Retired. Mexico. Baja."

"Think he'll ever make his way up here?"

"Yeah right," Julie smirked. "Too...hey. We got movement."

Two of the men walked out the front door, and were armed, one carrying a gun, another an automatic.

Renko began snapping photos with his camera. "Renko. The one guy's carrying a semi-"

She didn't finish her sentence. The club that shattered her window - and the smoke grenades thrown into the car - saw to that.

Renko didn't have a chance to react, as a bat shattered his window.

They both reached for their weapons, but were knocked senseless by the stun guns aimed at them.

Thirty seconds later, Julie Todd was pulled out of the car, and carried into the back of a black van waiting twenty feet behind the beater. The assilants popped the hood, pulled out the distributor cap to disable the engine, and jumped the van; the two armed men who came out the front door of the restaurant got in a red Civic, following the van.

Renko came to his senses, with no sense of how long he was out, just that he and Julie had been jumped...and that she was gone.

He looked around, felt for his gun, then felt for his phone. Fortunately he had both, and the battery was still in the phone.

"Eric!" he said frantically after calling the Ops Center. "We got jumped. Julie's gone-"

"We know, and Mr. Beale and Miss Jones have eyes on her assailants," said the woman who ran the OSP's L.A. operations, Hetty Lange. "We've dispatched LAPD to your location, and I'm ordering Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna to assist Ms. Blye and Mr. Deeks. What is your situation?"

Renko looked around, seeing a few civilians, and heard police sirens down the road. "I'm fine, shaken up, just need to catch my breath...Hetty, these guys are ruthless," Renko said, urgently. "This is straight out of the Reynosa playbook. If these are Reynosas, and they have Julie-"

"I share your sense of urgency, Mr. Renko, and time is of the essence," Hetty said, calmly. "But we have eyes on them, and our people are close. Do you need medical attention?"

"I need to find my partner," Renko said, firmly.

"There is an ambulance coming your way; if they clear you, then Officer Cooper from LAPD's Special Operations Bureau will escort you to the rendezvous point," Hetty said. "If not, I will meet you at the nearest hospital. I will call you back in five minutes."

She hung up on Renko, who was being watched by an LAPD undercover officer who had just gotten to the scene, and by Beale and Nell on security cameras.

Vance was in the Ops Center watching Callen and Sam's car close in on the black van, while Deeks and Kensi tailed the red Civic.

"Agents," Vance said to all four, listening in on their phones. "Our primary objective is to rescue Agent Todd alive. Secondary is capturing at least one of the five men alive. I'll watch from here, and meet you at the boatshed."

**Baja California, Mexico**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was almost done with his project. Another day, and the boat would be ready to sail on the Pacific.

He needed a day because he was out of black paint, and the store wouldn't get any more in until tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, Gibbs bided his time, watching the waves roll in on the beach, sitting in silence with his housemate, and ex-boss Mike Franks.

"Thought you finished that thing, Jethro," Franks said, drinking his breakfast: a bottle of beer.

"Told you, Mike, when I put her name on it, it'll be done," Gibbs said.

" _Kelly_. Good name for a good boat, Jethro...I think she'd have liked it."

Gibbs nodded in silence. Since moving to Mexico after retirement, he tried to put just about everything his past behind him.

Even his father in Stillwater, Pennsylvania, who couldn't understand why his son would quit. They had gone back to not speaking to one another.

And, his team in Washington.

Including her.

Kate.

The only things from the past Gibbs allowed himself to reminiscence on were his first wife, Shannon, and their daughter, Kelly.

Ari was dead, so everyone else was safe, and he could have the luxury of moving on, all the way to a Mexican beach, living in a shack with his boss, drinking beers on the porch in the morning and margaritas in the bar at night.

Life was good.

Every so often, the Americanos would get visitors, usually the local woman from their bar whom Mike slept with every so often.

The Ford Expedition driving towards the shack wasn't hers.

"Well I'll be damned," Franks said. "Federales...what in hell do THEY want?"

The vehicle stopped, and the Mexican Army lieutenant driving it jumped out of it, walked over to the other side and opened the door for his passenger.

"She doesn't look like a 'Federale', Mike," Gibbs said.

The woman wore a U.S. Army officer's uniform, and strode towards Gibbs and Franks.

"I'm guessing you're not Mexican Army," Franks said. "Or did you make a wrong turn at Albuquerque."

The Lieutenant Colonel chuckled.

"Gentlemen, I'm here for a reason, rest assured," said the older, blonde woman. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Hollis Mann, U.S. Army Criminal Investigative Division."

"Army CID?" Gibbs said. "You know we're NCIS, right?"

" _Retired_  NCIS, Probie," Franks said. "We  _were_  enjoying a late breakfast."

Mann eyed Franks' half-empty bottle.

"I preferred cold pizza, myself, when I went on vacation in Mexico...in college," Mann deadpanned. "I'm sure you two are wondering why Army CID is here visiting you, Agent Gibbs."

"Not an agent any more, Colonel-"

"Lieutenant Colonel. Mann."

"Lieutenant Colonel Mann. I'm retired."

"I read your file, Agent Gibbs, and yours, Agent Franks," Mann said. "I need your help with a case."

"We miss somethin', Probie? Army CID taking over NCIS?" Franks joked, taking another drink.

"I want to ask you about Lt. Colonel Casey Jones," she says.

"Don't know him," Gibbs says. "And call me Gibbs, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Okay, Gibbs. I thought you wouldn't recognize the name offhand. You do know his ex-girlfriend. Jane Rizzoli."

Gibbs stared at her.

"Yeah. I know Rizzoli."

"I need to ask you some questions, regarding your past involvement with Detective Rizzoli and her spouse, Dr. Maura Isles."

"Alright, if you don't mind telling me why you're investigating Jones."

"I'm investigating him for stalking."

**Reynosa Ranch, Mexico**

Paloma Reynosa and Alejandro Rivera thought they had everything lined up just right.

As they would soon be reminded, however, life has its funny, and cruel, twists.


	2. Chapter 2

**Reynosa Ranch, Mexico**

Thom E. Gemcity's fame had crossed the border. Without the author's knowledge,  _Deep Six_  had become an item of interest amongst the leaders of the Reynosa drug cartel.

Its matriarch, Paloma Reynosa sat in her comfortable mansion, reading through it for the fourth time, this afternoon sipping some wine.

"I myself have enjoyed the writings of Gabriel Garcia Marquez," said her brother, Alejandro Rivera, who sat down on the couch across from her.

They were the only family they had, he a respected government official, she the head of one of the most notorious cartels in the Western Hemisphere. They were alone in her spacious living room, with only a bottle of wine, the Deep Six book, a box filled with documents, and half a dozen armed guards for company.

She reached down and placed the box on the table, while he poured himself a glass.

"That terrorist has been dead for a year and a half?" Alejandro said, looking at his sister file through the box.

"And yet he continues to provide gifts," Paloma replied, finding the folder she was looking for. "It is almost as if he is still alive."

He opened the folder. "Is everything arranged, Paloma?"

She nodded. "You will invite their forensics specialist to Mexico, where she will give a series of lectures. You'll draw her out - quite easily, from what my people tell me - into the countryside, where she will find the bullet."

"And our people will examine his house, and the shack in Baja, for evidence of the weapon," he added. "My contacts say they can capture their agent as bait and get some substantial information from her."

"The one he loves, Alejandro?"

"No. Her sister. There is something else."

Alejandro left the living room, briefly, and returned with a laptop, calling up a website.

"There is a conference in southern California," he said. "The cousin is scheduled to speak there. We can also capture her and use her as leverage."

"I see," Paloma replied. "Do you not think, however, that capturing the lover and the forensics specialist at the same time is the better play?"

"I do not think we should play that card with his lover just yet," said Alejandro. "He is the ultimate objective anyway. We need to move the pieces so that we capture him. That should be our endgame."

Paloma sat back, placing the  _Deep Six_  book on her lap, and took another drink.

"You're right, Alejandro," she said. "The rest are pawns. We will have our revenge on Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Paloma tossed the book aside, and reached into her bag for another book more to her liking.

"Tennessee Williams, a more intelligent, and talented, writer, would you agree, Alejandro?" said Paloma, persuring through  _Moise and the World of Reason_.

"Among American writers? I could not agree more," replied Alejandro, as he spotted two guards quickly running towards the living room. He sat his drink down, and stood up to meet them as Paloma continued to read.

"Ma'am, Sir," said the larger one, Miguel, a struggling heavyweight boxer who joined the cartel four months ago as a guard and found its payscale more to his liking. "Our scouts have picked up two trucks coming from the south. We think they may be federales."

Paloma put down her book, stood up, and faced Miguel and the other guard, Jose, a lean, wiry man whom she and Alejandro brought in four years ago. "You're certain?"

"Si," Jose replied. "The makes of the vehicles are consistent with the ones federales normally use in undercover operations."

"Are they surveillance vehicles?" asked a suprised Alejandro, as Paloma spoke into her walkie-talkie and ordered her head of security to put the ranch on high alert. "Federales conduct surveillance from time to time-"

"-and you usually know about it," Paloma said to Alejandro, a high-ranking official in Mexico's justice department. "This seems to have escaped your notice."

"Yes, I usually  _do_  know about the federales," Alejandro protested, as his and Paloma's cell phones rang. One of the guards told Paloma two more trucks were approaching from the north, another guard told Alejandro three were approaching from the west, and Jose was told the east entrance was still secure and clear of federales.

Paloma got back on the walkie-talkie.

"Take down the federales by any means necessary," she yelled to her head of security.

"Madam, Sir, we need to get you to a safe place," Jose said. "The east entrance is clear but I am afraid we do not have the luxury of time. We need to move right now."

Paloma and Alejandro gathered their things - the Deep Six book was left on the carpet where Paloma tossed it - and followed Jose and Miguel out the back to her armored SUV. The four got in as gunfire erupted 100 meters behind them, from the west, and Jose floored it.

Miguel heroically leaned out the window on the front passenger side and shot at one of the federales vehicles heading towards them, while Paloma barked orders at her head of security.

She heard him say one of the vehicles had its tires shot out, then heard panicked shouting, and the head screaming something she couldn't quite hear.

"Ricardo!  _RICARDO_!"

"Madam Paloma...there is a plane...and a...missile? Coming for us...Madre Dios, run,  _run_   _RUN_ -"

The walkie-talkie went silent, and moments later they all heard an explosion from the far rear of the SUV. Alejandro and Paloma turned around, and saw a fireball where Ricardo and his team would have coordinated the defense of the ranch.

They also saw a small plane, flying over the explosion, heading towards the mansion.

"Jose! Get the hell out of here! Take us to the safe house! Now!" Alejandro shouted, and the SUV sped away from the scene, Jose keeping the speed at a steady 125 kpm.

A kilometer down the road, the SUV finally slowed. A group of men in two trucks used by Paloma's security detail were stopped on the side of the road, and Jose pulled the SUV ahead of them. Paloma and Alejandro looked back and saw four men whom they recognized as part of Alejandro's detail.

"Pablo," Alejandro said to the eldest one, Juan, after he and Paloma got out of the SUV. "What do you know?"

"They have the advantage. Security detail was overcome. I cannot speak for the group fleeing towards the west, but we, and we alone, are here," Jose said, carefully.

Gunfire could be heard, very faintly, in the distance.

"Apparently they are still fighting," Paloma said. "The security detail is structured like an army. We would be able to put up a fight, even if the federales or the military got the element of surprise...which should NOT have been a problem!"

Paloma glared at Alejandro, as the last of the men pulled out their automatics.

"I swear Paloma," he protested. "My sources are reliable. I always have at least 24 hours notice of any federales action against us or our interests. Something else is going on here."

Paloma waved him off, as Juan moved into a defensive position near her and Jose and Miguel moved behind Alejandro.

"I'm calling the safe house," she spat out. "I want to be sure it has not been compromised-"

She felt the cold steel of the barrel of a pistol against the side of her head. She looked over, saw that Juan was holding it, and reached for her own pistol - only to find that one of Juan's men had snatched it from its holster.

"You can call the safe house, Senora," said Jose, holding a handgun at Alejandro's temple while Miguel disarmed him. "You will not find allies there."

Four more men swarmed around Paloma, automatics armed and ready to fire; two men aimed their own weapons at Alejandro.

Alejandro and Paloma began to protest; they were answered with harsh blows to the back of their heads.

Jose placed a call on his own phone as his men secured the heads of the cartel, and walked them 40 meters off the road into the barren field.

"Premises secured?...good...minimal casualties for us? And them...do not let that last group escape...I will be there soon."

He snapped his phone shut, and walked towards Alejandro and Paloma, who were on their knees, arms and hands bound, with men pointing their weapons at their skulls.

"What in the hell is this?" Paloma spat. "Who are you?"

"A businessman," Jose calmly replied.

"We took you in!" Alejandro yelled. "I saved you from prison! I paid off the American Border Patrol officer! I made you one of our most trusted lieutenants! We made you far wealthier than you ever would have been-"

Jose nodded, and Juan kicked Alejandro in the teeth, knocking him on his back. One of the men reached down, grabbed Ajejandro by the hair and pulled him back up.

"Are you going to kill us," Paloma said, with a mixture of defiance and resignation.

Jose nodded to his men, who raised their weapons. The two men behind them had stepped to the side, and the others lined up in a firing squad line.

"At least tell us why you are going to assassinate us!" Alejandro said, also resigned to his fate, and like Paloma defiant to the end.

Jose waited for a few moments, then nodded to himself.

"I got a better offer," he said, nodding to the others.

He watched as Paloma and Alejandro died in gunfire; he thought he owed them the respect to see them die at his hand.

"Call for a backhoe. We'll bury them here," he said to Miguel, and he walked away from the scene, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and had a smoke to settle his nerves.

Juan Romero thought he would feel some remorse at Alejandro and Paloma's death. It genuinely surprised him that he felt none at all.

After a few puffs, with his nerves calm for the moment, he placed a call to his associates at the ranch, who told him the everything was secured and that the last of Paloma's men had been shot a kilometer and a half from the premises.

Then Juan placed another call, to his new boss.

"Senor," Juan said. "It is done."

"Ah, Senor Romero,  _mi amigo_ ," the man on the line said. "You seem frazzled."

"I am fine, sir," Juan said. "A simple business transaction. The operation was a complete success, and we are tying up loose ends now."

"I see," the man said, after a pause. "Who's left to tell the tale?"

"Us. Only us."

"Good...get your men to the safe house, and contact me there. We need to talk about your benefits...including a paid vacation in the Keys...on the house."

"Yes, sir," Jose said, as the man hung up on him.

The backhoe was trucked into the field from the ranch, and its driver began digging graves for Alejandro and Paloma.

"Dig them deeper than usual," Jose ordered. "We do not want to make it easy for the federales to find them."

As the backhoe dug in the background, Jose pulled out another cigarette, and puffed on it. All he could think about was that if he kept up with his boss's demands, he'd be far richer than Paloma Reynosa ever could have made him.

_And, oh, those women in Medelin..._

The man who hung up on Jose looked out from one of his mansions, this one in Key West, Florida, and he took a sip from his glass while looking out at the Caribbean.

He turned away from the ocean view, and walked out of the living room, past the kitchen, and into his office.

There, he looked at the whiteboard he set up a week before, with pictures of American law enforcement officers and agents, and associates and relatives, and names handwritten below each photo.

Timothy McGee, Anthony DiNozzo, Ziva David, Jennifer Shepard, Abigail Sciuto, Donald Mallard, James Palmer, Gerald Jackson.

Vincent Korsak, Barold Frost, Frankie Rizzoli Jr., Jordan Cavanaugh, Riley Cooper, Sean Cavanaugh.

Julie Todd, G Callen, Sam Hanna, Hetty Lange.

He looked at the final two rows of photos.

Maura Isles. Jane Rizzoli. Caitlin Todd.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

The man spat and cursed, as another photo on his desk caught his eye.

He walked over and picked it up; it was a former business associate, and friend, from the Middle East, killed at Gibbs' hand.

"I miss you, my friend," the man said wistfully. "I love you still."

He placed another call, to Juan, who by now had made his way back to the Reynosa Ranch's mansion.

"Juan," he said. "Bring me Paloma's papers...Juarez will be fine, you shouldn't have any problem with the Border Patrol, not as long as you hide them. But I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to get them to me, as soon as possible...if you can bring them with you? All the better...very well. I will expect you within 48 hours."

Victor Delgado hung up, and looked at the photo of he and Ari Haswari in Qatar, outside the hotel.

"I love you," he whispered, "and I will have my revenge."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Boston**

**Logan Airport**

**TWA Flight 401**

 

"Relax, love," Maura Rizzoli-Isles said to her wife Jane, as their plane taxied onto the runway. "We will have almost two weeks to ourselves. Frost and Korsak will handle things just fine while we're away."

 

"I know, Maura," Jane Rizzoli-Isles replied. "I hated leaving Frost with that extra case work. I know he said it wasn't any problem, I know Cavanaugh 'ordered' me to forget it. I hope I didn't leave them in the lurch."

 

"Jane. Did you know where the term 'leave him in the lurch' comes from?" Maura asked.

 

"No, I don't, Maurapedia. And how do I know you're not making this stuff up because you know I can't check it?" Jane joked.

 

"I'm not making this up. And you can certainly check it through a reputable website," Maura protested, lightly. "It comes from a 16th century French dice game called lourche. In the game, to incur a lurch meant to be far behind the other players. Winners often won by lopsided results, so to lose meant to be 'left in the lurch'...It began to be used in its present figurative sense around 1600 C.E."

 

"C.E.?" Jane said.

 

"Yes. Common Era, which is interchangeable with Anno Domini, and also is referred to as the Christian Era."

 

Jane rolled her eyes. "I'm Catholic, Maura. In school we used B.C. and A.D., so Why not just say A.D?"

 

"A.C.E. is the accepted academic and scientific term. Many academics and scientists avoid A.D. because of its religious connotations."

 

"Well, Maura, this _detective_ uses A.D. because she's Catholic and it's what she grew up with," Jane retorted, as the plane picked up speed; shortly afterwards, it left the runway, heading west towards Los Angeles.

 

Maura smiled, looking into Jane's eyes. "Everything will be fine, honey. We will have a lovely vacation after I make my speech."

 

Eight rows back, a young Latina woman reclined in her aisle seat, keeping an eye on the couple at all times.

 

She'd watched them from the time they left their home, and would until her associates picked up the detail outside LAX.

 

**East Los Angeles**

 

NCIS Special Agent Julie Todd twisted so her bicep and shoulder would hit at the right angle so she wouldn't break her arm.

 

The goon who tossed her against the arm didn't use excessive force and didn't seem intent on harming her; in fact, Julie noted he looked apologetic when they briefly locked eyes. All she could see was his brown eyes, since he - like the other four goons in the room - wore a jet black ski mask.

 

As soon as she thought she may have a sympathetic ally, she remembered what Leroy Jethro Gibbs had once told her about a criminal's gaze.

 

"The eyes can lie," Gibbs had told Julie, after the rescue operation that ended in the death of Ari Haswari. "Your sister learned that when he tricked her in the morgue."

 

If Kate had only killed Ari after he infiltrated the NCIS medical examiner's room and took her, Dr. Mallard and Gerald Jackson hostage - instead of being misled by his 'kind eyes' - so much might have been avoided.

 

Kate had told Julie about the incident, and Julie made her sister promise never to make the same mistake again.

 

So when she glanced at the brown-eyed goon again, and saw his kind eyes, she reminded herself he threw her against the wall and was as much of a threat as the guy with the bad breath shouting in her face.

 

"¡Mujer! ¡Se sentará y se callará!" (Woman! You will sit down and shut up!)

 

She grinned. "Only as long as it suits me, Jack--"

 

Her response was halted by a hard slap to the cheek. "Silencio!"

 

In the short exchange, and from what she heard him say to his compatriots, she gathered the man spoke Spanish with a Caribbean accent - not quite what she expected from a gang thought to have roots in East L.A..

 

She then took note of her surroundings.

 

It looked like the back of a warehouse, in a room of some kind - as wide as the main room of the boathouse her Special Ops team used to interrogate suspects, with a much higher ceiling. There was a fan along the back wall, and the door that one of the goons was standing guard at had a window looking out onto another warehouse.

 

 _I think I know where I am,_ Julie thought, as her captors talked amongst themselves. _I hope Renko, Callen and the others know where I am, too._

 

She didn't have very long to ponder whether they did or not, because she saw the goons reacting to some commotion on the other side of the building.

 

The goon with the 'kind' brown eyes was ordered to stand guard over her, and the one at the door stayed at his position, while the others left the room to attend to whatever was going on.

 

A moment later, she heard gunfire - and several moments afterwards, she saw the door kicked in.

 

"FEDERAL AGENTS!"

 

She was never so glad to see Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**East Los Angeles**

 

After clearing the room, Deeks and Kensi ran towards Julie's position.

 

On the other side of the wall separating the back room from the rest of the warehouse, the three could hear gunfire, and accordingly Deeks and Kensi kept low to the ground. Kensi watched for hostiles, while Deeks cut loose the ropes holding Julie, then picked the lock on her handcuffs.

 

"I'm glad you guys finally got here," Julie whispered, as Deeks handed her a pistol. "I was going through Plan B, Plan C. Got down to Plan X when you kicked the door in."

 

"Plan X?" Deeks asked. "Should I even ask?"

 

"Bore them to death with Star Wars trivia," Julie cracked.

 

Deeks' cell phone buzzed; G Callen was on the other end. Deeks put him on speaker.

 

"Front room is cleared," Callen told them. "All dead, all accounted for. Target secured?"

 

"Yes, Callen, 'target' is secured," Julie interjected. "I'm fine--ohmigod, you guys got the back, didn't you?"

 

"Yes, Jules, we secured the back of the warehouse," Kensi told Julie, as four armed agents entered through the rear door. "Callen, Sam and Renko are out there with the LAPD's Special Operations Bureau."

 

The trio made their way out into the warehouse, and, at first, saw body after body of gang members, then saw their teammates, and a dozen S.O.B. anti-terrorist task force members mopping up. The NCIS Special Ops members met midway, Julie gave Renko a hug, and Callen began the debrief.

 

"The guys you and Renko were watching? Dead. Over against the wall," Callen said. "So are the other gang members we've been watching."

 

"They all went down fighting," added Sam Hanna. "That was one of their reglas principales. Go down fighting, don't be captured alive."

 

"And now we're back to square one," Renko said. "We were tracking those guys for months. Now, we have nothing to show for it."

 

"I wouldn't say that, Mr. Renko," said the voice of Hetty Lange, from Callen's phone. "Mr. Cooper of the Special Operations Bureau tells me there are cell phones and computers in the building and in the gang members' vehicles."

 

"Can't place a call with them," Deeks said, holding up a smartphone, shot through, its glass completely shattered.

 

"We don't need to place a call, Deeks, just to get the info off of it," Julie replied.

 

"Which Mr. Beale and Ms. Jones are more than capable of doing for us," Hetty continued. "Ms. Todd, are you alright?"

 

"I'm fine, Hetty," Julie said. "Thanks to everyone else here."

 

"It's a good thing we had eyes on you, Jules," Callen added. "We do know these guys were in contact with the Reynosa cartel and that there was chatter about connections to a Paladin in the Caribbean. We can restart there."

 

**Washington, D.C.**

**Rock Creek Park**

 

As Ducky and Palmer looked over the victim's body, Tony, Kate and Ziva were transfixed on the scene near the MCRT's van.

 

McGee was pinned in by three of his more enthusiastic - and ample - female fans, with one taking pictures and the other two posing, while asking for autographs.

 

"Are these women typical of his readership?" asked Ziva. "I know there were book signings, which he took at least one evening off to attend."

 

"Probably," said Tony, watching on in utter fascination. "I've always been concerned about Probie, spending all of his free time on his computer or on that Grantland Rice-era typewriter. Somehow, though, my concerns were for naught. I'm glad McGee has finally found a measure of success with the opposite sex--OWWWWWW!!!"

 

DiNozzo's musings were cut short by an elbow to his gut from Kate.

 

"Ow!....Kate, as your senior agent, I have to say what you just did violated the spirit of the NCIS rulebook at LEAST--"

 

"So is you looking on in pleasure while McGee is subjected to...them," Kate replied. "Gibbs would've put a stop to it already."

 

"Gibbs isn't here," Tony objected. "I saw you both - you too, Mossad Ninja - enjoying Probie's predicament just like I did. And I'm not going to let it go on forever."

 

McGee looked towards his teammates, eyes begging for help.

 

"Anthony, our victim will need to be moved very soon, and--" Ducky said, before Tony interrupted him.

 

"And we can't do our jobs if McGemcity is being mobbed by his fans," Tony said. "Kate, sketch. Ziva, photos....Ziva?"

 

"McGee has the camera," Ziva replied.

 

"Of course McGee has the camera," Tony said. "Ziva, sketch; Kate, begin looking over the immediate area. I'll join you after I rescue McClancy from his McAunts."

 

Tony strode towards the van, and was spotted by the women.

 

"Tommy?...that's Tommy!"

 

"And that must be the team - Officer Lisa! And Mae!"

 

"And...oh goodness could that be L.J. Tibbs?"

 

In seconds, the matronly trio was on Tony; two of them then split off and headed towards the crime scene.

 

"ZIVA!" Tony yelled. "STOP THEM!"

 

Ziva dropped Kate's pad and pencil and moved to prevent the women from getting any closer than they had; meanwhile, Tony found himself being kissed on the cheek by a 55-year-old fan of Deep Six.

 

"You look just like Thom Gemcity said Agent Tommy said in the book!" the lady said, squeezing Tony's cheek, as he winced. "And you're so cute."

 

"Uh, Agent Tommy--" McGee began.

 

Tony gave him the evil eye.

 

"--sorry, Senior Agent in Charge Tony DiNozzo," McGee continued. "This is Mrs. Stern. Over there...uh, meeting Ziva and Kate, are Mrs. Floyd and Mrs. Johnson--"

 

"And it's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Stern," Tony interjected, "Unfortunately, we're in the middle of a crime scene, and Agent McGEE here needs to be free to do his job."

 

"Oh...I'm so very sorry, young man," Mrs. Stern said. "We just recognized him from the book jacket and wanted to say hello, and well, we saw you, Tommy--"

 

"I'm agent _DiNozzo_."

 

"Oh? I thought you were Tommy. And that was Lisa, and Mae, and is that the doctor and that awful Pimmy Jalmer? No, he's Polynesian..."

 

Tony rolled his eyes, then gave McGee another stink eye.

 

"Mrs. Stern? Those are characters from the book. These are the people I work with--"

 

"You work with the NCIS? I didn't know that. We thought you only worked with them on the book and not for them--"

 

About a hundred yards away, a woman with a baby stroller watched the scene. She took notes, then called an associate in Miami.

 

**Boston**

**Boston Police Division One headquarters**

**Homicide squadroom**

 

Jane Rizzoli's desk chair should be empty, but it instead was filled by a very large pink bear, and her desk had a bouquet of flowers and an array of fruits and chocolates.

 

The other detectives in homicide's squadroom - including the ones Jane normally worked with, Vince Korsak and Barry Frost, and her brother, newly promoted detective Frankie Jr. - gawked at the display.

 

Almost everyone had overlooked the man who put it there, Giovanni Gilberti. Korsak, Frost and Frankie hadn't, and wanted simply to know why he brought it...here.

 

"All I want to know is why, Giovanni," Frankie said. "Why here, and not at Jane and Maura's house."

 

"Giovanni, this is a police station and a place of business, not Mardi Gras," Korsak added. "You can't leave this here."

 

"Guys, I'm sorry," Giovanni replied. "I didn't mean to bother. I just had to do something to show my appreciation when I heard."

 

Giovanni didn't follow up, and the trio of detectives wondered what on earth he meant.

 

"Appreciation for what?" Frost said.

 

"Jane and Maura," Giovanni replied, then saw the confusion on the men's faces. "You mean you guys don't know?"

 

"Don't know what?" Frankie said.

 

"Jane's pregnant," Giovanni replied.

 

Frankie did a double take, Korsak looked at Giovanni like he grew a third eye, and Frost looked over the bouquet of flowers.

 

"You think Jane's pregnant," Frost stated. "And how do you know that?"

 

"I mean, she looks as skinny as she ever has, not that she was ever fat to begin with, because Rondo was telling me the other day how fine looking she was and how lucky Maura was to have her--"

 

"Rondo told you she was pregnant?" Frankie said. "I'm gonna kill--"

 

"No, no man! Don't kill Rondo! He didn't say nothin'...other than how hot she was--"

 

"You say another word about how 'hot' my sister is and I'll show YOU--"

 

Korsak and Frost broke in between Frankie and Giovanni. Frost reached over to his desk and picked up a soda, while Korsak had Frankie back up an extra foot.

 

"If Rondo didn't tell you Jane's pregnant, which is news to us, who did? And who's supposed to be the father?" Frost asked Giovanni.

 

"Maura's supposed to be the father," Giovanni blurted.

 

Frost spit out his soda all over the floor, and some of the splatter fell on Korsak and Giovanni's shoes. Then Frost began to laugh as loudly as anyone had ever heard him, and he fell back into his desk chair.

 

Korsak largely kept it together - looking away from Giovanni so his occasional chuckle wouldn't render him as useless as Frost - and Frankie simply stared at Giovanni, in shock.

 

"How...what...on earth made you think Jane's pregnant? And that Maura's the father?" Frankie finally said, as Frost's endless laughter finally began to die down.

 

"Well, Jane and Maura are married, and Maura's a doctor, and really smart, and they can do all kinds of things nowadays with science," Giovanni replied, matter-of-fact. "And I saw a TV show the other night where one woman got another woman pregnant--"

 

Frost began laughing out of control, once again.

 

"A TV show?" Frankie said. "You forget what they taught you in sex ed class about babies?"

 

"No, but on the show, one woman got her partner pregnant, through end retro fertilization, I think it was called."

 

"In vitro," Korsak interjected.

 

"And you would still need sperm. MALE sperm," Frankie said, as Frost fell out of his chair. "Man...you thought JANE was pregnant? Maura the father? Come on."

 

"Well, that's what Detective Kruger told me--"

 

Korsak and Frankie looked at each other. "Kruger. Of course," Korsak said. "He's a practical joker, and he put one over on you. A whopper."

 

"You know Jane and Maura's on vacation, right?" Frankie said, and Giovanni shook his head. "Well, they are, two weeks. And I can tell you for a fact Jane's not pregnant, neither is Maura, and neither are the father of any baby!"

 

Frost was still laughing on the floor, as Korsak walked over to give him a hand up.

 

"Well...I can't return the flowers and food and the bear," Giovanni said. "I could save it for when one or both of them do get pregnant. And then they could be the mother AND the father."

 

Frankie rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in exasperation, and Frost laid his head on his desk, unable to stop himself from laughing.

 

Downstairs, a woman was asking questions of Detective Kruger about Jane and Maura, and those they worked with in homicide and the crime lab...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Army CID Lt. Col. Mann convinces Gibbs to return to Washington to head the investigation into Col. Casey Jones - and why he’s ‘stalking’ Jane Rizzoli.

**Chapter 5**

**Baja California, Mexico**

 

Lt. Col. Hollis Mann showed Gibbs and Franks some files relevant to Army CID's investigation of Col. Casey Jones, enough to fill them in on the basics.

 

"In a nutshell: since Det. Rizzoli divulged her relationship with Dr. Isles to the Colonel, and formally ended her relationship with the Colonel, he has been tracking her," Lt. Col. Mann said. "Hiring military personnel to keep tabs on the couple, including Naval and Marine personnel. Contacting her regularly, even after she made it clear she wanted to move on. Doing this not just on his own time but on the Army's. Taking trips to Boston to watch her, and only her, not Dr. Isles nor anyone else."

 

"Stalking," Gibbs said.

 

"Not to a level where he is overtly threatening her life, nor those around her, but yes, we - I - consider it stalking," Mann replied. "And using active and former Navy and Marine personnel to watch them, that's where you come in."

 

Gibbs looked through the information folder. He'd spent six months with Jane and Maura, and although he had a variety of ways of getting information on the couple, he never did so in an invasive, prying manner. He didn't seek nor care about information on their intimate lives, but there were some after-work discussions in his basement about homosexuality, since the topic was, in some way, part of their lives.

 

During those talks, with Gibbs, Jane, Maura and Kate huddled over a table, Jane drinking a nail jar half-filled with bourbon, and Maura and Kate drinking anything but, the discussion focused on the social aspects. How would Jane's family react to the couple? How would Gibbs' team react? How much conflict did it present for Kate and her Catholic faith? Did Gibbs, being conservative and "old-fashioned", have any trouble with it? What would Ari do with the information?

 

Gibbs was indeed born and raised in a very conservative, Republican part of Pennsylvania, as red as a Northeastern town was ever going to be. The Marine Corps, especially in his day, weren't known as a bastion of gay rights, and neither was the Navy. When Gibbs joined the Naval Investigative Service, his peers by and large weren't necessarily religious but they weren't liberals, either.

 

But Gibbs had no problem personally with gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders, though he would never be able to identify with their orientations and its effect on their lives. When a handful of people at the Navy Yard raised 'concerns' about "Rizzles", Gibbs laid down the law, backed by Director Morrow; afterwards, if anyone had a problem with the couple, they kept it to themselves.

 

He knew _of_ Colonel Casey Jones, largely through a single-page bio obtained from a contact at Army CID, and through Jane's recollections. Judging from both sources, Gibbs never would have tagged the colonel as a stalker; in fact, he was under the impression Jones had moved on after Jane chose Maura over him.

 

All in all, if Jones was trying to bully his way back into Jane's life, then Army CID was right to investigate him. Gibbs thought Lt. Col. Mann and her bosses were correct to do so.

 

It just wasn't Gibbs' place to investigate, something Mann apparently disagreed with.

 

"I don't disagree that there's a case here," Gibbs said, after closing the folder and handing back to Mann. "I don't agree _I'm_ the man to lead it. I'm retired, Lieutenant Colonel. I've moved on from being a federal agent. This is home."

 

Mann looked at Mike Franks' shack, and at the nearby boat. " _That's_ your home?" she asked Gibbs. "It needs a new roof at least; in fact, you probably need a new house. If a hurricane ever makes landfall here and you guys are around, you can kiss your asses goodbye."

 

"Hey!" Franks protested. "It's a good house, a helluva view of the ocean and you know what the best part is?"

 

"No," Mann said.

 

"Nobody ever comes around to bug ya!" Franks shot back, as he lit his cigarette.

 

"I'm not one to break up fellows' bromances--" Mann.

 

"Whoa lady, this ain't _that_ kind of relationship!" Franks said, as Gibbs smirked.

 

"--and after I leave, you can go back to your beach house - get somebody to fix the roof - and maybe even put that boat on the water and see how seaworthy it really is," Mann said.

 

"So you're done?" Franks.

 

"Just about," Mann said, reaching into her bag for an envelope. "I have just two more things to do before I'm done here. Here's the first."

 

She handed the envelope to Gibbs, who opened it, pulled out its letter and began reading, with Franks looking over his shoulder.

 

"Sonofabitch--" Franks said, tossing his cigarette in anger.

 

As he read the letter, Gibbs's expression was unreadable; whether he was angry or indifferent, or even giddy over leaving his Mexican retirement home, Mann couldn't tell what he was thinking.

 

She figured some of it out, after he shoved the letter back in her face.

 

"I'm retired," Gibbs said. "Filled out my papers, gave them to the director, she signed them. I get my checks on the same schedule as Mike. You need me to do this? Why not special projects in Los Angeles? Why not DiNozzo?"

 

"So you're refusing a direct order from your director?" Mann said. "Read the letter again. All of it, every detail. It tells you why your director wants you handling this. By the way, she told me to tell you to remember the agreement you made with her before you 'resigned'."

 

He took the letter from Mann, reread it, then folded it and handed it back to her.

 

"What agreement?" Franks said. "You tell Jenny you'd go back there?"

 

"If needed," Gibbs said. "I told her under certain circumstances, I'd go back to Washington."

 

"Shit," Franks replied, lighting another cigarette. "Probie, I told you to make it clear with Jenny that you wouldn't go back under any circumstances, cause if you don't they're gonna find a way to reel ya back in."

 

"I gotta go, Mike," Gibbs said, as Franks looked at him incredulously. "My team needs me."

 

"Your team?!?" Franks retorted. "Rizzoli's not even NCIS. She didn't even work under you a full year, Probie. Your going back is gonna cause all kinds of problems; Jenny, DiNozzo...Kate."

 

Mann noticed Gibbs both bristle and groan at the mention of 'Kate', simultaneously annoyed and hurt...she'd have to look further into Gibbs's former team. Especially since he likely would have to work with them.

 

"Can't stay _here_ , Mike," Gibbs said. "Rizzoli needs me. Something's going on--"

 

"Yeah. She's being stalked by an Army colonel," Franks said. "Lt. Col. Mann and Director Shepard _really_ need _you_ to figure that out."

 

"Actually, Mr. Franks, that's not what we need him for," Mann replied. "Gibbs? Director Shepard told me before I left, that you're known for your 'gut' - so what's your gut telling you right now?"

 

Gibbs looked back, at his boat, regretting he wouldn't be able to finish it - and almost regretting that he'd have to settle unfinished business in Washington, and probably, in Stillwater.

 

If this were a simple stalking case, he would've have told Mann to bring in DiNozzo and his team.

 

This _was_ more - his gut was telling him as such, and from what he knew of Jones, his behavior wasn't like most of the sociopaths Gibbs had collared over the years in stalking cases.

 

"My gut, Lt. Col. Mann, Mike?" Gibbs said to them both. "He's not stalking. He's trying to _protect_ her."

 

Mann smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Maura are tracked at LAX; the LA Special Ops team prepares for the next stage of its case; Tony and the team kid McGee, and Abby knows someone who could help with their case; Gibbs tells Army CID Mann why he’s going back to the States.

**Chapter 6**

**Los Angeles International Airport**

 

"Everything was just fine, Maura, until we went to pick up our luggage. And _your_ luggage is there. Guess whose luggage isn't? Take a wild guess!"

 

Jane Rizzoli-Isles had, apparently, lost her luggage, and was dealing with it through sarcasm and by pacing the area in front of baggage claim endlessly.

 

Her wife, Maura Isles-Rizzoli, patiently watched on for a short while, then decided enough was enough. She put her hand firmly on Jane's wrist - causing her to stop pacing - and planted herself in Jane's way.

 

"Jane, you should calm yourself," Maura told her. "I am sure there is a perfectly good explanation as to the disappearance of your luggage. 7.25 bags out of 1,000 are mishandled during transfers from the airplane to the concourse, according to government statistics--"

 

"Seven point two-five? Did the other three-quarters get stolen, then? I'm missing three bags, Maura."

 

"You should not worry, Jane. Our luggage is fully labeled, we followed the airline rules, and I have sufficient funds for a lawsuit should your baggage not be recovered."

 

Jane rolled her eyes. "A lawsuit? Really?"

 

"An associate of mine, who heads the medical examiner's office in Atlanta, lost all of her luggage flying from Atlanta to Rome. She filed a lawsuit against the airline and successfully recovered her luggage and the court costs."

 

Jane looked back at the carousel, hoping to see her bags appear. "They're just clothes, and shoes, and underwear, Maur...lawsuit's a bit overkill, dont'cha think?"

 

"Those were not just 'shoes', Jane," Maura retorted, shocked that Jane would say such a thing. "Those are Margaret Crosby's, in pure Corinthian leather, perfect for your job. And do you remember how much I paid for your suits so you no longer had to settle for those department store outfits?"

 

"An arm and a leg," Jane said, as something caught her eye. "Hey...hey HEY...Maura! Look! My bags!"

 

Indeed, Jane's three bags finally came down the carousel, and Jane and Maura jumped for joy and hugged one another like kids.

 

"I don't think we'll need your attorney after all," Jane said, pulling her trio of bags through the concourse, Maura right alongside pulling her own assortment of bags.

 

"Well, she's there if we need her," Maura said to her. "No matter how serious, or trivial. My love and devotion to you demands it."

 

Jane stopped in her shoes, looked at her wife, and wrapped her in her arms for a smooch.

 

Ninety feet away, a Latina in a business suit placed a phone call.

 

"I have visual on our targets," she said in a low voice.

 

" _Good,_ " said the man she was speaking to. " _Remember, we give them 48 hours, including the time for the doctor to make her speech. Then we move...and remember. Dump your phone, once you get away from the airport._ "

 

"Muy bueno, senor," the woman replied.

 

**Los Angeles**

**Office of Special Projects**

 

As the rest of the NCIS Special Ops team headed towards the Ops Center, Callen and Julie made a quick detour to the building's computer area, meeting Eric Beale there.

 

Julie dumped several phones and phone parts onto a table, and Callen handed Eric a mini-disc and the player it came from.

 

"We found this hidden in a corner of the warehouse," Julie explained of the mini-disc player. "It was recording when the team rushed in to recover me, and it looks like there was something else on the tape, before today."

 

"After we're debriefed, break down that tape; we couldn't hear any noise on the disc but we have Kensi to help us read lips," Callen followed. "Check the phones, too. Some are burners, some aren't. There may be something there that helps us figure out more about these guys."

 

**Washington**

**The Navy Yard**

 

The NCIS medical examiner's van pulled into the garage, and a couple of aides helped Ducky and Palmer take the body of Marine Sgt. Clark Howard to the elevator, heading towards autopsy.

 

The rest of the team - Tony, Kate, McGee and Ziva - waited for the elevator so they could work the investigation on their end.

 

"You looking forward to your groupies coming in for a visit, Tim?" Kate teased McGee; he promised his fans - Thom E. Gemcity's fans, to be exact - a tour of the Navy Yard in exchange for them backing off back at the crime scene.

 

"They're fans, Kate, not groupies," McGee replied. "And they're nice ladies."

 

"I could have flashed them," Ziva said, drawing looks from the other three. "No! I mean flash my badge."

 

"We wanted them to back away so Tim could do his job, not scare them to death," Kate replied, as Tony and McGee nodded.

 

"Probie, I've decided you have to get out more," Tony interjected. "Ditch the ancient typewriter, shut down your computers, go find yourself a nice girl."

 

"In case you hadn't noticed, Tony, I'm pretty busy," McGee replied, hinting at Director Shepard's secret op Tony found out about earlier that morning.

 

"Oh I know you're busy, McGee," Tony replied. "We've got to take care of that."

 

"What's going on, you two?" Kate said, narrowing her eyes at Tony, then McGee. "Some kind of boys club thing going on between you both?"

 

"Perhaps Tony is helping McGee find some younger 'groupies'," Ziva suggested. "When Tony goes on his dates, he may give McGee--"

 

"I'm not giving McGee seconds, Ziva," Tony shot back, as the elevator opened, and Abby hopped out into the garage.

 

"Guys! Is it true?" she said, exuberant as ever. "Jimmy said the victim's transgender?" The three agents and Mossad officer nodded.

 

"That's so cool!...well, it's not cool that she's dead, that's why she's in autopsy," Abby continued. "I know a woman who's transitioned, who's fighting to get back into the Army and I'm thinking about signing a petition--"

 

"Don't sign that petition!" Tony said, surprising Abby. "Er, I mean not until I run it by the director...let's get through this case first." Tony and the others got onto the elevator with Abby, and Tony hit the button taking them to the squadroom.

 

"Who's the name of your friend in the Army, Abs?" Kate asked.

 

"Private Emily Santos, born Emilio Santos," Abby said. "She volunteers down at the soup kitchen. You can't see her as a man. Maybe she can help us with this case."

 

"Maybe so," Tony added. "Get me her contact information, I'll have Ziva follow up."

 

**Tijuana, Baja California**

 

Gibbs and Lt. Col. Mann were in a U.S. Army vehicle, heading right for the border checkpoint.

 

"Did you really expect to spend the rest of your life down there, on that beach, with that guy?" Mann said. "I would have assumed, a bachelor like yourself, would have at least had his own beachhouse...in case you found a local lady to settle down with."

 

"Been there, done that," said Gibbs, straight as an arrow, and not about to mention Shannon to this stranger if he didn't have to.

 

"You expected to go back to the States to visit, though, am I right?"

 

"Probably...not," Gibbs said, checkpoint in sight. "I had moved on. I have moved on."

 

"Yet they reeled you back in."

 

"Looks like it."

 

"You could have said no, agent Gibbs," Mann added.

 

"No I couldn't," he replied. "My team needs me."

 

Mann looked at Gibbs. "That woman was a detective assigned as a liaison--"

 

"She's family," Gibbs retorted. "We went through a helluva lot during that time. We all grew close. Yeah, I left them, for my own reasons. But I told the director if she, my team, needed me, I'd be there. And that's why I'm going back."

 

After the vehicle went through checkpoint and entered California, a civilian in a Jeep pulled onto the highway and began following at a distance.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delgado begins putting his people into place on the West Coast; Gibbs returns to Washington.

**Chapter 7**

**Southern California**

 

The Jeep followed the Army Humvee north and as long as possible until it got to Marine Corps Air Station Miramar. The Jeep stopped as the Humvee turned east on Governor Drive straight towards the base checkpoint.

 

The driver of the Jeep pulled out a burner phone and placed a call.

 

"Senor? They have taken him to MCAS Miramar...correct, senor. I could go no further...I will turn around, head back to the safe house...yes, senor."

 

The Jeep turned around, got on 805 South, ditched the burner phone out the window, and headed towards her safe house.

 

**Santa Monica, California**

 

The woman watched as Jane and Maura Rizzoli-Isles checked into their hotel room, and stayed in the lobby as both stepped into the elevator.

 

She pulled out her burner phone from her purse, and placed a call.

 

"They are at the hotel," she said.

 

"Good. Our woman in the hotel will keep an eye on them for this evening," said Victor Delgado, the man whom she had called. "Before you go to the safe house. I want you to check the hiding place and the staging area. Make certain what we were told is true."

 

"I will," she replied. "It should not be a problem."

 

"If it is, call me back, I will deal with the service who recommended those places to us," he said. "It seems as if one of our objectives is...unavailable...LJG."

 

"Two still are," she said.

 

"Watch your words, amiga," he shot back. "The walls may have ears...we can speak more freely when you are in your vehicle."

 

She took the cue to leave the lobby, and walk back to her rental. "The walls may have ears, but the air does not," she said. "I am outside."

 

"Nevertheless, we must be extraordinarily careful," Delgado cautioned. "I want my revenge. I will figure out how to deal with Gibbs...we can still abduct the couple. And the woman in Washington. She is as vulnerable as she was when Ari abducted her three years ago...and I will have my revenge."

 

"Si, amigo," the woman said, getting into her car. "I will head to our staging area...and make contact with our people."

 

"Very good. I know you will not let me down," Delgado said, before hanging up.

 

The woman got onto the road, and placed a call on another burner, taken from the glove department.

 

**NCIS Office of Special Projects**

**Los Angeles area**

 

One of the phones in Eric Beale's basket began ringing. And ringing. Quickly, he looked for whomever special agent was around.

 

He found Julie Todd and Marty Deeks, whistling loudly and waving at them to get their attention.

 

The phone stopped ringing, by the time they got there; Beale picked up the phone, trying to find the phone number of the person who dialed.

 

"I'll call my contact at LAPD, see if that number's in their database," Deeks said, stepping away to place his call.

 

Julie looked at the phone. "Burner," she said. "Who called this number, and why...Eric. Run the number--"

 

"Already on it, Jules," he said; his search yielded nothing. "Burner number."

 

Deeks came back in, shrugging his shoulders. "My friend at the LAPD said nada. Not in their database."

 

"Perhaps Mr. Beale can trace both phones back to their original sellers," said Hetty Lange, surprising all three with her presence. "The East LA Amigos were known to buy burner phones through local convenience stores."

 

"Guess it's worth a shot, but we're likely to strike out," Julie said. "Dirtbags like these use burners for a reason."

 

**Santa Monica**

 

The woman waited until she was out of a high-traffic area, then threw both burners out her window. After not seeing a police car anywhere, and satisfied she wasn't being followed herself, she began her trip towards Delgado's so-called staging area.

 

**A couple of hours later**

**Washington**

**Navy Yard**

 

"Where is she, McGee?" Abby Sciuto parked herself at Tim McGee's desk, with a box of donuts in her hands and her Caf!-Pow cradled in her elbow.

 

McGee looked up only after the powder from Abby's donuts began falling on his shoulder.

 

"Hey! You're getting powder all over my jacket! And my keyboard," McGee complained. Not that it did any good.

 

"I haven't eaten all day, McGee," she said, as Kate Todd looked up from her monitor. "I need my energy. I'm going to have a lot of work to do. Now where is she???"

 

"If you're talking about Kate, she's right there," McGee said. "Ziva's with Tony bringing in a suspect. The director's upstairs--"

 

Abby threw down her box of donuts and her Caf!-Pow on McGee's desk, causing a donut to fly out of the box, bounce off his nose and back on to his keyboard.

 

"McGee. I mean the officer," Abby said. "The transgendered officer."

 

"Oh. THAT she," McGee said, picking up the donut and thinking about eating it. "The victim's in the morgue. Where else would she be?"

 

"Just checking, McGee," Abby said, picking her box and Caf!-Pow off the desk.

 

McGee bit into the donut that bounced onto his keyboard, only to be met with a stare from Kate.

 

"What?!?" he said.

 

"That's bad for you," Kate said. "I've lost track how many times I had to tell Tony about how horrible junk food is. And now he's making you into a carbon copy of him."

 

"If it's bad for me, then it's bad for the girl standing behind me who's eating a box of them," McGee complained, as the elevator dinged.

 

"Oh, I tell Abs the same thing," Kate said, as Abby gave her a 'what in the world' look. "Carrots and hummus are good for you, Abs. Not that crap you're eating."

 

"But Kate--" Abby stopped, when she saw Tony and Ziva with a very large man. They watched Tony and Ziva walk the 5-foot-8, 320-pound man up the stairs to one of the interrogation rooms.

 

It took five minutes, complete with a series of borderline profane comments from the man, to get him up there.

 

"They must have found her landlord," McGee said. "At least he didn't smell bad."

 

"Yes he did," Kate replied, pulling a can of air freshener out of her desk drawer. "I noticed it when he waddled by with Tony and Ziva....EWWWWW."

 

Abby walked over as Kate sprayed the area of the aisle in front of her desk. "Gross," Abby said, not noticing Tony and Ziva jogging down the stairs.

 

"He a suspect, boss?" McGee asked Tony.

 

"No, McGee, I decided the director needed a jovial, energetic fat man to brighten her day," Tony shot back. "Of course he's a suspect. He's in interrogation now, waiting on me and Ziva to talk to him--"

 

"Ziva and I," Kate said, correcting Tony's grammar. "And I can still smell that stench on you both."

 

"Try riding to the Navy Yard with him," Tony said. "We put him in the back seat, windows rolled down from there to here."

 

Ziva, having gone to her desk to grab a pen and pad, stopped at Kate's desk. "I have smelled worse, Caitlin. Sarajevo. Dresden. Bucharest. A butcher's shop outside Gdansk. A farm in central Bulgaria...last year, when Tony and I were working undercover. He passed gas in bed."

 

Tony put himself in front of the Mossad officer. "That is no way to talk about your team leader, and special agent in charge, especially in front of the kids," he said. "And I only farted twice, and it was because of the veal we had for dinner."

 

"Do we really need to know that," Abby said, holding back a giggle, as McGee turned around to hide his laugh, and Kate rolled her eyes.

 

The elevator dinged, and no one noticed.

 

What they noticed was who walked off the elevator.

 

"Gibbs???" Tony half-shouted, as the others turned to look, seeing him trailed by a female Army Lieutenant Colonel, headed up the stairs.

 

"Gibbs!" said Abby, staying put only because Kate grabbed her by the wrist.

 

"What in the world?" Kate.

 

"Who is that woman with him?" Ziva.

 

"Looks like they're headed to the director's office?" McGee. "Tony?"

 

"Tony!" Abby said. "It's Gibbs...you've got to find out why he's back...is he back?"

 

"I don't know," Tony said. "Ziva...take care of Chris Farley in interrogation. I'll join you asap."

 

Gibbs, trailed by Lieutenant Colonel Mann, walked into Director Shepard's office, past her secretary Cynthia Summer, and was in the director's office before Cynthia could push her intercom button.

 

"Oh," said Jenny, who was on the phone. "Mr. Secretary. Can I call you back in a little bit? Something urgent has just come up...good. Thank you."

 

Mann followed Gibbs into the office, albeit taken aback by the lack of protocol.

 

"Just when I was getting used to my door being treated like a door," Jenny said, standing up and walking around her desk to greet Mann. "A pleasure to see you again, Lt. Colonel."

 

"Likewise, Director," Mann said. "Took some talking to get him to come along."

 

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** It's been a good six months since I last visited this universe. Lots of things have come up in between, but I have not forgotten about this story. So, I'm back :)

 

Things are about to pick up for our heroes and heroines and not in a good way...

 

**Chapter 8**

**Director Shepard's office**

 

Jenny sat at her desk and stared at the monitor on the wall on the other side of the room.

 

The photo of Rene Benoit - La Grenouille - was something she wanted to have in front of her as much as possible. It dominated her days, it preoccupied her thoughts, it even influenced how she ran the agency she was appointed to manage.

 

Now if she could only be honest with herself about that last part.

 

She looked back up at the monitor, and thought of Agent McGee. He was doing a hell of a lot better at his assignment than she thought he ever would, and pulling him off the case now would throw a monkey wrench into this entire operation.

 

_No, McGee would NOT be pulled off the case. In fact, he might be better off being reassigned somewhere else for the duration--_

 

She heard the door into her waiting room tossed open and instinct guided her to grabbing the remote and turning off the monitor before whomever was barging in could see it.

 

And there were only two people who would have the balls to do such a thing.

 

 

And Gibbs.

 

Jenny had expected Gibbs to show up at any time, and he certainly didn't disappoint his former partner.

 

"Oh," she said into her phone, as she carried on a non-existent conversation with the Secretary of the Navy. "Can I call you back in a little bit?" Gibbs had already barged in, placing himself in front of her desk, and Lt. Col. Mann walked right past the now-open door of her office.

 

"Something urgent has just come up...good. Thank you."

 

Jenny hung up the phone on her phantom caller, and she noticed Mann looking quite taken aback at Gibbs' lack of protocol, or his barging in unannounced into the office of the head of a federal agency.

 

Perhaps it was the combination of the beard and the Hawaiian shirt.

 

"Just when I was getting used to my door being treated like a door," said Jenny, who chose to greet the Army CID officer first. "A pleasure to see you again, Lt. Colonel."

 

"Likewise, Director," Mann replied. "Took some talking to get him to come along."

 

"Didn't leave me any choice...Director," Gibbs interjected, before pausing, then walking over to the director's door, slamming it shut and locking it.

 

**The director's waiting room**

 

Tony hurried in, and saw Cynthia Summer besides herself, hands on hips, staring incredulously at the door that Gibbs had just locked.

 

"Of all the things..." she said to Tony. "I heard stories from the ladies who worked for Director Morrow about that man--"

 

"And they're all true," Tony said.

 

"I don't suppose you want in there, too?" she said as Tony walked to the door and turned the handle.

 

"Actually, I'll sit out here," he said, pulling up a chair, sitting down, and putting his ear against the door.

 

**Boston**

**Boston Police Division One**

 

Riley Cooper listened in on the conversation Kruger was having with the young Latina woman, then pulled out her cell phone.

 

Susie Chang, Maura's top assistant, was running the lab in Maura's absence and saw Cooper nearby; Cooper quickly put her finger against her lips and motioned Susie over with the hand holding her phone.

 

"You know that woman?" Cooper asked Susie? "Any one in your lab know her?"

 

"I've never seen her before in my life," Susie said. Cooper kept Susie out of sight, took a picture of Kruger and the stranger with her phone, then emailed it to Frost before calling him.

 

Frost, still giggling over Giovanni's errant views of modern science and human conception, picked up. "F-f-Frost."

 

"Cooper," she said in a whisper. "I just emailed you a photo. Kruger's spilling the beans about Rizzoli and Isles and everyone down in the morgue to this woman."

 

"Kruger? What?" Frost tapped a few buttons, and the photo appeared. Cooper told him what she overheard him say - including things about Jane and Maura's trip that weren't supposed to get out to the public, even to people like Kruger. "How long ago did he do this?"

 

"Right now, Barry," she whispered. "I'm looking at them."

 

"I got Frankie and Korsak up here. I'll tell Cavanaugh. Stay put, don't let her out of your sight...Cooper. Cooper?"

 

Frankie saw Frost's expression, then saw him slap his phone shut.

 

"Frost, what's going on--"

 

"We got a situation," he said, punching a line on his phone. "Detective Frost. We have a 112 down near the lab. Female, Latina, 5-8, 135 pounds, with Detective Kruger...you see them both, hold them."

 

The woman saw movement in the corner of her eye, and pulled out a gun before Kruger could react. With her other hand, she whipped out a badge.

 

"I am Consuela La Porta of NCIS," she announced. "Show yourselves now, and place yourselves under arrest."

 

**New Orleans**

 

The three federal agents ran down the suspect outside the Superdome. It took all of them to tackle him and hold him down.

 

"First day on the job and you got your cardio in for the day and then some," said NCIS Agent Dewayne Cassius Pride, foot firmly on the suspect's back.

 

"Feelin' just fine, King; I could run another six blocks just fine," said NCIS Probationary Agent Christopher LaSalle as he handcuffed the suspect. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to take this fella back to the office."

 

"What about you?" Pride said to the woman sitting on the suspect's thighs. "We've got plenty of Cajun chicken pasta."

 

"That eight-block job gave me an appetite for more than another cup of coffee," said Coast Guard Investigative Service Agent Abigail Borin. "I'll take you up on it."

 

"Federales. Federales," said the suspect, a Cuban male in his early 30s. "Federales!"

 

"Food isn't for you," LaSalle said, pulling the Cuban up. "The only thing you get is a seat in our interrogation room."

 

"I do not want your food!" he said, twisting his head around to glare at LaSalle. "I have information you will be interested in."

 

"Information about the cocaine you've been running? Or the dead sailor we found at your shack?" Borin said.

 

"Information," said the Cuban, turning to Pride, "about some friends of yours."

 

"Friends?" Pride said.

 

"Washington, and Boston," replied the Cuban. "But I want a deal."

 

**Santa Monica**

 

"What time's that speech of yours," Jane shouted from the bedroom, only to get no response. "Maur? Cat got your tongue?...you're not worried, are you? It's the same speech you said you gave at UConn--"

 

Jane found out why Maura hadn't replied since stepping into the walk-in closet. She stepped out, wearing nothing but a silk negligee, and Jane - in her Celtics T-shirt and shorts - stared and stared.

 

"I've already written and rewritten that speech - in Storrs," Maura said, walking up to Jane and removing the T-shirt. "I can recite it by heart...but tonight, I want us to enjoy ourselves."

 

The woman outside the hotel couldn't see into their room, but she noted the time the lights went off from their suite overlooking the street.

 

**Los Angeles**

**NCIS Office of Special Projects**

**Ops Center**

 

"I was able to trace the IDs on some of the phones to a store seven blocks from where Julie was abducted," Eric told Hetty and the team. "They were purchased four months ago."

 

"Four?" Sam Hanna said. "That's not the bad news."

 

"Wish it were, Sam," Eric continued. "The store in question only keeps security camera footage for the past 30 days."

 

"Then we look in to the gang members themselves," Hetty said.

 

"We dig into their pasts, and find who and what they're connected to," Callen added.

 

"Where's Deeks?" Julie said. "And Kensi?"

 

"Vance sent them on an assignment?" Renko asked.

 

"Not that I was aware of, Mr. Renko," Hetty said. "Perhaps they are downstairs."

 

That was the case, as Kensi and Vance listened in on Deeks' conversation with a colleague at the LAPD.

 

"Julio. I have NCIS Assistant Director Leon Vance and Special Agent Kensi Blye with me. You're on speaker."

 

"Sir, ma'am, I am Detective Julio Sanchez, Priority Homicide Division, LAPD," said the voice on the speakerphone. Callen, Sam, Renko and Hetty walked up and joined Vance and Kensi around Deeks' desk. Sanchez proceeded to review Priority Homicide's cases involving the same gang OSP had been investigating, then dropped a bomb on them.

 

"Early this morning, we uncovered recordings from one of the deceased gang members. They were putting out feelers to former Marine and Navy personnel - Latino and Latinas," Sanchez said.

 

"This is Agent Callen. Feelers to join the East LA Diablos?"

 

"No, Agent Callen. A cartel," Sanchez said. "I had been told you were interested in Reynosa organization operations here in Los Angeles County, but the recordings didn't mention them."

 

"This is Director Vance. If not the Reynosas, Detective Sanchez, then who?"

 

"One I've barely heard of, Director," Sanchez said. "The Tampica, with an 'a' at the end and not an 'o'."

 

"This is Henrietta Lange, Detective. We met five weeks ago, during the Gunther Herrmann murder investigation," said Hetty, whose interest - and involvement - in the high-profile case was news to everyone else but Vance. "Are the Tampicas involved with the Reynosas, or have any other involvement with our investigations?"

 

"What you're interested in is what the gangsters were saying about the Reynosas," Sanchez continued. "One of them said the Tampicas offed the heads of the Reynosas."

 

That was a shocker. "When?" Vance said.

 

"They didn't say," Sanchez said. "You'll be interested in another part of the conversation."

 

"Which is?" Callen said.

 

"I quote, 'whatever the Reynosas were going to pay us for info on the Navy cops, the man who hired us is paying triple'."

 

**Santa Monica**

 

She walked in, looked around and, satisfied about the arrangements, made a call.

 

"It is difficult to find but easily accessible to us," she said. "He will find it quite useful."

 

**Mexico**

**The Reynosa property**

 

"We dug 30 meters down, senor," said the ranch hand to Jose Romero, now the acting head of the Reynosa Cartel. "Federales will not be able to find them."

 

"Bueno," Romero said, then waited for the ranch hand and his assistants to leave. They didn't. "You are dismissed."

 

"There is another matter, senor," the lead hand rubbed his middle and forefingers and thumb together.

 

"Aaaahhh," Romero said. "Payment."

 

"Si."

 

"Paloma did not pay you your regular wages?"

 

"Si, senor," he said. "But this is extra work."

 

"Extra work?"

 

"The federales, they will be looking for Paloma and Alejandro, especially since he is a government official."

 

"I see. You would like payment for this...extra work."

 

"Si, we all would. 1,000 pesos."

 

"For the four of you."

 

"1,000 pesos apiece."

 

Romero ruminated on that, as his guards stood behind him. "So you want 1,000 pesos apiece for your...extra work."

 

"I would like 1500 pesos," the lead hand said.

 

"If this payment...cannot be produced," Romero said carefully. "What position would that put you in?"

 

"I am...confident the funds are available, senor," he said. "Just as I am confident our operations will continue as normal...I would hate to see that change."

 

"See that 'change'."

 

"Si," the lead hand said. "It would be most unfortunate if the federales were to arrive, unannounced...if they were to find things we would want them to stay ignorant of."

 

"Ignorant of."

 

"Burial sites," the hand said, carefully. "The dead should remain undisturbed, no?"

 

"Si," Romero replied. "They should remain...undisturbed."

 

"So you will provide us the funds...today...in the usual manner?"

 

"Of course, Miguel," Romero said. "You will receive your payment." Romero walked back, past his guards, then turned to his side and nodded.

 

The next instant, the windows in the guest room exploded, and an instant later so did the heads of the three ranch hands behind Miguel, who turned instinctively.

 

He turned back to Romero, his eyes wide, mouth open, and thought he really should've turned around when the guards told him to check his pistol at the kitchen door.

 

That was his last thought on Earth; his bullet-ridden body fell on top of his comrades.

 

"We leave. Now," Romero said to his guards, after he made certain all of the paperwork he needed was placed in the briefcase. Then they, and the other collaborators, jumped in three SUVs, leaving the scene towards their safe house, minutes ahead of local law enforcement.

 

**Washington**

 

Ziva looked into the Director's waiting room and saw Cynthia smirking at DiNozzo, whose ear was pressed against the door to the Director's office.

 

"Is this a new form of investigative work?" Ziva whispered in his ear, causing him to jump, to Cynthia's delight.

 

"Why aren't you talking to Drew Carey?" Tony whispered. "Fill me in." He pressed his ear against the door.

 

"I do not know who that is," she replied, then put her hand in a fist and held it up. "Perhaps you should knock on the door."

 

"Shhhh," Tony said, trying to wave Ziva off, as Cynthia grinned from behind her desk. "Go interrogate Joe Stooge."

 

"Is he another suspect?" Ziva said, nonchalantly.

 

"He's the one in Interrogation Room Number Two," Tony shot back in a whisper, pointing to the hallway. "Now, go talk to him, find out how he knew the victim...and be quiet. I can't hear anything."

 

Tony didn't hear anything else until the door opened abruptly, and he lost his balance and fell, on his side, into the Director's office, to the astonishment of Lt. Colonel Mann.

 

"Nice of you to join us...DiNozzo," deadpanned Gibbs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note to readers: Life has waylaid me the past few months, hence the lack of updates. I apologize profusely, and I intend to get this back on track with regular updates going forward. This short chapter introduces us to two characters, the first an OC, the second familiar to NCIS viewers - whom will play a role in the storyline.

 

**Mexico**

**The Reynosa ranch**

The comandante was hailed by two of his officers, who had found two very recently-dug burial sites just outside of the property.

He opted to walk the short distance instead of riding it in his own State Police vehicle. That gave him more time to think.

The process of excavating the sites had just begun when he arrived. He waited, patiently, and soon the bodies of two of the most important people in his professional life were removed and placed on the ground.

Paloma Reynosa and Alejandro Rivera had helped give the comandante a comfortable life. Their professional relationship was mutually beneficial; perhaps in a decade or so, he could have retired, leaving the unpleasant parts of his job to another fool.

Seeing their corpses cemented the reality that his life had just changed. Now what was he going to do?

Another officer noticed some vehicles off in the distance, heading their way.

Federales, noted the comandante, as the SUVs came into clear view.

Given the nature of the Reynosa business, the federal police would take over the investigation. But these federales weren't the people he needed to speak to.

"Make sure our federales friends stay put," the comandante said to the first sergeant, then walked away to call the only man in the government he knew he could trust.

**Israel**

**Mossad headquarters**

Side by side, Eli David looked at the mugshots of his deceased son and his alleged lover.

 _Whatever Ari Haswari had done in his short life, sodomy was not among his vices,_  thought Eli,  _although Ari was not above misleading others to his own advantage._

Eli knew that Ari had cut a deal with Delgado for weapons during his short stay in the Caribbean, shortly before he was finally killed by the Americans. At his direction, Mossad had not shared that information with the American intelligence agencies - Eli judged that Mossad's own security might be compromised.

Ari's brief Caribbean vacation netted Mossad one of the last surviving World War II-era Nazi officers. That thrilled the prime minister to no end, and when the director of Mossad had his unfortunate heart attack Eli was quickly appointed to succeed him.

He heard a knock on his office door. "Come in," he said loudly enough for the person to hear, and newly-installed deputy director Ilan Bodnar walked in with a manila folder.

"Our source in Mexico tells us that the leaders of the Delgado cartel have been found dead," Bodnar said, handing Eli the folder. "This corresponds with our agent's message to her handler."

"Then Delgado put out the hit and it was carried out," Eli stated.

"Officer Tuvia is imbedded deeply with Delgado's organization," Bodnar replied. "Her information has been accurate and solid. There is something else you should be aware of."

"Something else."

"Officer Tuvia has heard...chatter...of Delgado seeking to kidnap certain Americans."

"'Certain Americans?'"

"Specifically, those whom he deems were accomplices in the death of his so-called 'beloved'," Bodnar continued. "Officer Tuvia believes Officer David may be a target."

"Ziva."

"Yes."

Eli looked at the photos of Ari Haswari and Victor Delgado.

"Director," Bodnar said, breaking the silence.

"Are you wondering what I am going to do here?" Eli said curtly.

"No, director," Bodnar lied. He wondered if the father was considering pulling the daughter away from the goddamned mess he expected was about to explode on the Americans' doorstep. "Should I contact the Americans?"

Eli paused, then spoke. "I will handle the matter myself," he said to Bodnar. "Continue with your business. Keep me updated on Officer Tuvia's undercover work."

"Yes sir," Bodnar said, turning and leaving the office.

Eli knew Bodnar wanted to ask about Ziva. But Eli had to think as the director of the intelligence agency of an embattled nation, and nothing could come before Israel.

Even if that meant American blood would be lost because of one man's delusion.

_To be continued..._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I apologize for the lengthy delay; I suffered a serious injury some months ago and am slowly recovering. 
> 
> Warning: our heroines and hero find themselves in a precarious situation. The imagery may be a bit rough for some readers, so please skip ahead to the Washington-based section at the end for a summary.

**Chapter 10**

 

Jane Rizzoli-Isles woke with a splitting headache and a dull pain in her side.

 

The room was pitch-dark and the bed was as hard as concrete.

 

Seconds later, she realized she was on concrete, and her arms were over her head, and she was handcuffed.

 

Jane tried to break her handcuffs with no success; she was weak, hungry, thirsty and cold. And she heard breathing.

 

As she strained to see who else was...there...with her, she heard a door open, and was blinded. After several moments, she heard an unfamiliar voice.

 

"Welcome," the baritone voice of a male boomed within the room, as Jane tried to avert her gaze from the intense light aimed at her eyes. "You are here at my pleasure and kindness."

 

 _Whhhmmmmmmmmmmmm_ \-- Jane tried to speak, then gave up when realizing her mouth was duct-taped shut.

 

"You will not be in these conditions forever," he said, as Jane averted her eyes towards the ground, noting her legs had been tied with a rope. "You will be fed, given water, cleansed--"

 

_Maura!_

 

"--clothed, in accordance with the Geneva Convention."

 

_Maura! Where's Maura -- Geneva???_

 

"I have chosen to keep you alive, you and your friends," he continued. "You may be most valuable to me that way."

 

_Alive -- Maura! This guy's got Maura! She's -- she has to be alive too!_

 

"Although after taking my beloved from me, I deserve a little bit of revenge, no?"

 

_Revenge...?_

 

"So I shall have it, through your suffering," he added. "Unfortunately, I cannot maintain this for much longer."

 

Jane saw the door close, and herself left in the darkness. Her gut told her she'd live through this nightmare.

 

She hoped her gut was right.

 

 _Maura!_ She had to stay alive, for Maura...and for whomever else the bastard had taken.

 

**Washington, D.C.**

**Navy Yard**

**NCIS Headquarters, Multiple Threat Assessment Center**

 

NCIS Director Jenny Shepard watched the video for the 19th time. All of the agency's specialists were pouring through every frame, every moment of sound, for any piece of useful information.

 

And so far, no one had anything useful to give her.

 

She nodded to the tech, who restarted the video. Then she looked to the right of the screen, to the images of Assistant Director Leon Vance and Hetty Lange.

 

Shepard had seen the images of Caitlin Todd, Jane Rizzoli-Isles, Maura Rizzoli-Isles and Leroy Jethro Gibbs, all bound and gagged, and Gibbs and Jane bruised.

 

"How soon can you have a team ready, Leon?"

 

"All six can be ready asap, Director--"

 

"Four," Shepard interjected. "Detective Deeks is in no way ready for this type of operation. Not to mention, we have no idea where the hell they're being held."

 

"I would suggest, Director, to read through Dr. Getz's report before settling on the number of operatives. She is stronger and more resilient than you perhaps are giving her credit for."

 

"I'll read his assessment but my mind's made up on Julie, and the others won't be alone," Shepard said. "Have an update for me in four hours."

 

Shepard gave the 'cut' sign to the tech, and the video once again took up the entire theater-sized screen. "Restart the video," Shepard said to the tech, while walking back to the theater-styled seats in the back to watch the video for a 20th time.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**San Diego, California**

**Naval Base San Diego**

**NCIS field office**

 

Forensic psychologist Jacqueline “Jack” Sloane finally finished the stack of profiles that had been emailed to her overnight from NCIS headquarters in Washington.

 

All she had been told by the sender – Director Jenny Shepard – was to read each profile and give the director her professional opinion. Sloane hadn’t been told why she had been asked to profile these specific people – G Callen, Sam Hanna, Kensi Blye, Michael Renko, Juliana Todd, Caitlin Todd, Jane Rizzoli, Maura Isles and Leroy Jethro Gibbs – just to do it ASAP. She pulled an all-nighter and drank three pots of coffee to get the reading portion completed, and felt as if she was swimming in java and jacked-up (no pun intended) on caffeine. Now she had to type up her report, email it to the director, and head to the back room for a long nap.

 

Sloane had been the only person in the field office since before 8 o’clock the previous night, and didn’t expect the San Diego team members to arrive for another half-hour.

 

She certainly didn’t expect a half-dozen Marines – one carrying a large box – and the base commander to burst in and head right to her desk.

 

“Where’s Agent Carroll?” barked Navy Captain Joe Hodge, the commander of what was locally referred to as 32nd Street Naval Station.

 

“At Disneyland with his family,” Sloane said. “Commander, what’s going on here?”

 

“Contact him, tell him to get his ass back here now,” Hodge barked at a Marine, who pulled out a cell phone and placed a call. Hodge turned back to Sloane. “Are you the ranking agent here…Ms. Sloane?” he asked, taking a close look at the badge hanging from her neck.

 

“I suppose so, for the moment,” she said. “As I asked, Commander, what’s going on here? What’s in that box?”

 

“This box arrived at our front door around 0530, just under an hour ago,” he said. “There was a note taped to the side of the box, which is addressed to your field office. One of our canines reacted to the box, leading the guard at the front entrance to open the package. This is what we found.”

 

At the commander’s nod, one of the Marines began clearing Sloane’s desk over her protests; the Marine carrying the box placed it on the desk, then opened it.

 

Sloane’s hand flew to her mouth as she realized what was in the box.

 

**Washington**

**Navy Yard**

**NCIS Headquarters**

**Multiple Threat Assessment Centre**

 

Shepard stood straight in front of the large screen in the back of the room, split four ways, showing feeds from the other people involved in this impromptu meeting. In the upper left was Mossad Director Eli David; to his right, San Diego Naval Base commander Blake; below him, NCIS Assistant Director Leon Vance on a cell phone feed somewhere in southern California; and to his left, Hetty Lange from the Operations Center of the NCIS Office of Special Projects headquarters in Los Angeles.

 

“And this note read ‘you have nothing to give me; keep sending your people and they will end up like this’?” Shepard said. “And her identification was in the box alongside her…remains?”

 

“Affirmative, Director,” Hodge said.  “Officer Liat Tuvia’s head was in the box. Her badge and other identification papers were found in an envelope made of some sort of plastic.”

 

“You still have possession of the remains?”

 

“In a secured area, Madam Director. No one’s getting in or out. Will your San Diego office be taking over the investigation?”

 

“No, Assistant Director Vance will be heading it,” Shepard said, apparently to Vance’s surprise, although he only indicated it with a raised eyebrow. “He’ll be in contact with you shortly, as will I.”

 

“Of course,” the commander said. “I’d like to know who in the hell killed a foreign operative and sent her head to my base.”

 

“So do I, Commander. If you’ll excuse me, there are some matters I need to address with my people first before I touch base with you again,” Shepard replied, giving the hand-across-the-neck gesture to an aide to cut the commander’s feed.

 

“Director David, my deepest and sincerest condolences on the death of your officer,” she said to the head of Mossad. “Rest assured, we will find her killer and bring her to justice.”

 

“I, too, would like to know who killed my officer, Director,” David replied. “And, ‘rest assured’, Mossad will not rest until we find the killer.”

 

“I wouldn’t expect any less…just not within U.S. territory,” she said. “This is where NCIS holds up its end of the relationship between our agencies. I _will_ keep you in the loop, every step of the way, Director David. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have related business to attend to.” She gave the ‘cut’ signal to the aide before David could respond.

 

That left a split screen of Vance and Lange. “Did you find anything relevant to our case, Leon?”

 

Vance was calling from the Imperial Valley of southern California, where he and a team of agents had combed over an abandoned house off Interstate 8 in the outskirts of the town of Holtville. “Just this,” he said, holding up a passport and a manifest. “The passport is out of Mexico. The manifest suggests clothing was aboard a Cessna Citation XLS business jet that left El Centro Airport headed for Hidalgo, Mexico—”

 

“Except that aircraft landed instead somewhere in the desert near the city of Chihuahua,” Lange interjected. “The plane was left alone and discovered by local authorities last night. The Mexican _federales_ took over the investigation, and discovered four human-sized bags with blood in them this morning—”

 

“How have _you_ heard about this and I _haven’t_?” an irked Shepard said.

 

“The information was sent to NCIS within the past ten minutes, by email,” Lange said. Shepard turned and ordered an aide to find that email; she then took the printout and read it.

 

“Great. No word on where the ‘contents’ may have gone,” Shepard said. “Leon. Make sure you secure that house, and head to San Diego. Have the field office help you, and that includes working with the Mexicans on that plane and finding out whose blood it is and where whatever was in that plane may have been taken. I’ll be in touch shortly.”

 

Vance nodded and cut the feed, leaving Lange alone with Shepard. “Have your people been able to get anything out of that video, Hetty?”

 

“Mr. Beale and Ms. Jones have poured over every frame and are no closer to discovering a location than before,” Lange said. “Director, Mr. Callen is headed to speak to one of his associates now to try to get some clarification—”

 

“Arkady Kolcheck,” Shepard said. “Who seems to know everybody. Have Callen ask him what _he_ knows about Delgado—”

 

“Director!”

 

A young agent fresh out of the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Georgia thrust herself in front of Shepard. “Agent DiNozzo and his team’s trying to leave the facility and are being held at the gate per your instructions ma’am but they’re really insistent they have to leave _now_ —” the agent said without seemingly stopping to take a breath.

 

How the woman – who went through FLET-C at Shepard’s insistence – got into MTAC and snuck up on Shepard was something the director would address later. There was a bigger issue to address at this moment.

 

Shepard cut Lange’s feed and quickly left MTAC to head to the front gate of the Navy Yard. About ten minutes later, the director – surrounded by agents – met DiNozzo, Agent McGee and Mossad officer Ziva David.

 

“Jenny, you need to let us go, now,” DiNozzo said.

 

“You’re not supposed to go anywhere without my permission, Agent DiNozzo,” Shepard said. “I told you after Agent Gibbs disappeared and was taken you were benched for your protection, so whomever took him and Agent Todd and Officer Rizzoli and her wife—”

 

“Wouldn’t kidnap us, either,” DiNozzo replied. “You know we’re not just going to sit on the sidelines, not on this—”

 

“I know you’ll do as I say, whether you like it or not,” Shepard replied. “You weren’t even to go investigate a fly on a dead petty officer without my permission. Yet here you are.”

 

“Time’s _wasting_ , Director. We have a flight—”

 

“ _Had_ a flight. You find out something I don’t know?”

 

“We got a phone call about 45 minutes ago,” McGee said. “News media in Boston leaked a story that Boston police had kept quiet about for the past few days.”

 

Shepard took a deep breath. “This is connected how?”

 

“A Latina masquerading as a NCIS officer was discovered by Boston police officers and detectives this morning, hiding in a safe house,” Ziva David said. “The woman was shot but is alive and being held under guard.”

 

“And if I guessed this was connected to our missing people…” Shepard said.

 

“You’d be right,” DiNozzo said. “I spoke with an Officer Korsak who said the woman was asking questions about Jane and Maura, and claims she knows where they were taken. But she’s asking for a lot in return.”

 

“How much?”

 

“100 million dollars, exoneration from all crimes, flight to whatever country the U.S. doesn’t have an extradition treaty with. She gave us a clock, too. 24 hours, or the deal’s gone, and then she won’t open her mouth for God Himself.”

 

**Los Angeles**

 

Agents G Callen and Sam Hanna pulled up to one of the mansions owned by Russian Arkady Kolcheck. The owner, Callen knew, would likely be home, and not off running his private security firm. Callen and Kolcheck knew each other dating back to the time when Callen worked for the CIA and Kolcheck for the Russian KGB intelligence agency.

 

Callen used Kolcheck as a sort of Confidential Informant, and hoped the man would be able to shed some light on the kidnappings, and who arranged them.

 

The NCIS agents parked on the street in front of the mansion and, after showing their badges to the guards, were taken to the pool in the back. Kolcheck was reading the morning copy of the Los Angeles Examiner while laying on a pool chair, clad only in a red bikini.

 

Kolcheck awaited their arrival, as if he’d been expecting them all morning.

 

“Now that’s an image I could have gone my entire life without seeing,” Hanna deadpanned. “At least put some shorts on.”

 

“And not tan my torso? Be glad I am not nude, Agent Hanna,” Kolcheck said. “Callen, it is good to see you, and you as well, Agent Hanna. I trust this is not a social visit, however?”

 

Callen pulled up a picture on his phone and showed it to Kolcheck. “You know this woman, Arkady?”

 

Kolcheck looked at the photo for a few moments, and his eyes went wide. “ _O боже_...”

 

“You know her?” Hanna said, impatiently.

 

Kolcheck looked at the photo again, then looked up at Callen and Hanna. “Yes, but only by reputation.”

 

“Tell us what you know, Arkady,” Callen said. “All of it.”

 

“She goes by many names, but is known in certain circles as ‘The Angel of Death’,” Kolcheck said. “Beautiful, charming, and deadly. She works for hire, and word on the street says she was hired to kill by African warlords, Mexican cartels, Asian crime lords, even Castro himself. She is said to be so dangerous, Castro paid her a fortune to leave him alone forever.”

 

“How dangerous?” Hanna said. “What has she done?”

 

“Her specialties are said to be intelligence-gathering and assassination,” Kolcheck said. “She is not above torture to find out what she wants to know, and no one of any age is exempt from her methods.”

 

“’Any age’,” Callen said, not liking what he thought he was going to hear.

 

“Meaning children, Callen. The elderly. And anyone in between. I hope whatever case you’re on doesn’t put you into contact with this woman.”

 

Neither agent said a word in response.

 

“Then good fortune be on your side, because you will need it,” Kolcheck said. “Is there another question you wanted to ask me about?”

 

“You have any idea who this ‘Angel of Death’ might have worked for most recently, or where?” Hanna asked.

 

“No, but there is a person I can ask. Now, any other questions?”

 

“Have you heard of a Victor Delgado?” Callen asked.

 

Kolcheck paused, and remembered something. “Again, not personally, but only by reputation. He is known across the world as a minor drug lord based in the Caribbean. He is said to be as ruthless as the worst Mexican and Colombian drug lords, but is not motivated by power or money.”

 

“Then what _is_ he motivated by?” Hanna said.

 

“No one knows, or has gotten close enough to ask, or gotten close to and stayed alive long enough to tell,” Kolcheck said. “I hope your case doesn’t put you into contact with him, either.”

 

Again, neither Callen nor Hanna replied.

 

“Ah. You cannot speak of your current case, as is always the case. I understand,” Kolcheck said, rising from his pool chair and giving both men much more of an eyeful than they wanted to see of Kolcheck in a lifetime. “Can I have something prepared for you before you go? Some orange juice, perhaps, or brunch?”

 

“Thanks, Arkady, but we don’t have time,” Callen said. “Do put _some_ shorts or pants on, though, for your guards’ sakes if nothing else.”

 

“But I am wearing a bottom—” Kolcheck protested, but Callen and Hanna were already on their way out.

 

Once they got in Hanna’s car and were back out on the freeway, Callen called OSP for any updates. Lange took the call from tech specialist Eric Beale and told them Director Shepard had ordered them to divert to Los Angeles International Airport. There, both men would board a C-32 aircraft that would fly directly to Boston, where they would interrogate The Angel of Death herself.

 


End file.
